


gonna set my soul on fire

by green_tea31



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Stealth Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 15:26:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17789930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/green_tea31/pseuds/green_tea31
Summary: “If there’s a tiger in the bathroom I will kill you,” Mac tells him with all the indignation of the recently hungover and Jack has to think very hard about that because he still can’t remember what they did last night and if there’s one thing they’re good at, it’s exceeding expectations – even in Vegas.(Mac and Jack wake up in Las Vegas with a hangover and no idea what they did last night. Also, there's a pool. The pool is important.)





	gonna set my soul on fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nevcolleil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevcolleil/gifts), [BlackVultures](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVultures/gifts), [blackrose1002](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose1002/gifts).



> Okay. This is not what I was expecting to write this week. Inspired by [ this. ](http://purplecolouredglasses.tumblr.com/post/182784553761/thesammykinz-nevcolleil-bisexualstokes)  
> Happy Valentines day if you celebrate it.  
> Fair warning, this might also be the filthiest thing I have ever written.
> 
> Title from "Viva Las Vegas" by Elvis Presley.  
> As always self-betaed, all mistakes are my own.

Mac wakes up and falls off the couch.

It’s not his couch, that’s the first thing he notices. His couch is smooth, well-worn leather and a comfy blanket, this one is a white, plush thing that manages to be a lot more uncomfortable than it looks. He’s also pretty sure this isn’t his floor either. His floor has never been this clean.

Mac manages to turn around, barely, and looks at the ceiling – yeah, different, too. Wherever he is, he’s not home and he also doesn’t remember how he got…wherever here is. The only reason he isn’t panicking is the fact that he recognizes the general state of his misery as an alcohol induced hangover and not as the result of something more nefarious. Alcohol means that Jack has to be involved, somehow, because Mac rarely drinks excessively and only ever when he and Jack are together. That means finding Jack has now officially become step two of his agenda after getting off of the floor.

So, he does that, getting up.

It takes a while.

An _embarrassingly_ long while.

He’s mostly upright when he realizes where he is. The overstyled room with the front of huge windows overlooking a poolside that’s just barely visible because it’s still dark outside can only ever be in one place.

He’s in Vegas.

 _Dammit_ Jack.

He knows the house, too. It belongs to an old mentor of his that he’d met at MIT who’s still dropping by Mac’s house once a year with increasingly ludicrous job offers. Of course, knowing Tony every one of these offers are actually real and if Mac wanted, he could have _the fucking island where I’m going to build you a lab the likes of which would every single engineer I know shit his pants in excitement, kid_ tomorrow.  

Thankfully, Mac’s needs are a little more modest than that. Right know he’ll settle for finding his partner and maybe remembering if they did anything the night before that requires immediate intervention. He’d also like to find out what day it is, why he’s in Vegas and if there’s anyone else with them. The last thing they need is a repeat of last year’s trip to Cancun, the last time Mac was this drunk, when he and Jack hadn’t remembered that they’d taken Riley and Bozer along and almost forgotten them when leaving.

They’re still making amends for that. Riley is going to have a steady supply of free ice cream and pizza until they’re all old and grey.

Mac is relatively stable by the time he notices movement outside. It’s not much and he can’t make out any specifics in the darkness, the Las Vegas skyline in the background doesn’t help much.

Mac carefully makes his way outside, afraid he’ll lose whatever he’s eaten last if he moves to quickly. Thankfully his metabolism has always been fairly quick, so a couple of paracetamol and about half a gallon of water should help him over this hangover soon. He slides the glass door open and...his brain

…just _breaks_.

Jack is there. He’s sitting on the edge of the pool, feet just hanging in the water and looking as confused as Mac feels.

What he’s _wearing_ , however.

Over the last few years Mac has tried, very hard, not to let Jack know that Mac’s initial tiny crush on the older man has flourished into a full-blown, I love you, _would you like to spent the rest of your life with me_ infatuation. Mac is in love with Jack in a way he’s never been in love with anyone else and sometimes doubts he could ever be again.

He’s tried everything, thrown Jack at available (worthy, Mac is very specific about that) women, helped his partner with his tinder profile and generally just tried to make Jack _happy_.

And he _does_ want that, wants Jack to be happy. Mac only ever wants the people he loves happy but he doesn’t always know how to go about that and sometimes he gets it wrong. It’s an ongoing process.

Moments like these though…make it really hard not to wish that Jack could ever be happy with _him_ , that Mac could somehow be enough for that.

Right now Mac is mesmerized because Jack is wearing nothing but a very flimsy robe made from some kind of slinky golden fabric that clings to Jack in all the right places – _barely_. Mac tells himself he’s going to stop perving on his partner any minute now and look somewhere, anywhere else than at Jack in a robe that doesn’t even reach his knees. There’s a dip in the front, too that exposes a good part of Jack’s well-muscled chest which is normally hidden under one of the myriad of band shirts he owns and Mac can’t help moving towards his partner with slow measured steps, almost as if in a trance…

He forgets about the pool.

The pool _separating_ him from Jack.

…

The first thing Jack notices when he wakes up is that he’s fuckin’ freezing his nuts off. Literally, if he’s wearing anything it can’t be much. Then he notices the hangover. His head is pounding loudly enough he probably wouldn’t be able to hear himself right now. He opens his eyes and just barely manages to stop himself from rolling into the pool.

There’s a pool, great. That just leaves about a million other questions he needs answers to _yesterday_. Jack sits up slowly, feet dropping into the water, warming him slightly because the water is heated. The pool is next to a stylish house, very minimalistic, not really Jack’s taste. The first thing he has to do is find Mac because Jack might not remember what’s going on or where he is, but shit like this never happens without Mac.

He’s still trying to forget Cancun, scratch that, he’s still plying Riley and Bozer with regular pizza and ice cream so they don’t remind him of Cancun whenever they feel like it.

Jack is almost ready to get up and look for his partner when Mac finds him.

It would probably be more accurate to say that Mac finds the pool – or the pool finds him, however you want to look at it. Jack looks up at the house just in time to watch a dazed Mac take the final step over the edge and vanish into the water with a great big splash.

Jack blinks…then he blinks again before his brain reboots. He slides into the water, no questions asked. If there’s one constant in their relationship, it’s that as long as he still can he will always put Mac first. It doesn’t matter that Jack feels like road kill, Mac is in the water, not of his own free will, so Jack will go into the water to get his partner back out.

Easy as that.

Jack dives after Mac only seconds after he so gracefully stumbles into the pool and grabs his partner around the waist. They emerge with Mac coughing and spluttering and Jack holding on to him as tightly as he can without hurting him.

“Jack, what…,” Mac gasps out and Jack manages the few strokes to the edge without losing Mac.

“Come on, partner. Hold on to something. Don’t make me heave you outta this water, too. I’m not really feelin’ up to it.” The water has done wonders to clear Jack’s head but he’s still vaguely nauseous and doesn’t want to risk puking all over his partner trying to lift him up.

Thankfully, Mac seems to finally catch up and grabs the edge. With a bit of help from Jack he heaves himself out of the pool and then pulls Jack up after him. Then he collapses backwards and stares up at the sky.

“What the _hell_ , Jack?”

“You’re askin’ me, pal? You’re the one who fell into the pool,” Jack responds mulishly and drops himself down next to Mac.

“I didn’t _fall_ ,” Mac retorts and Jack snorts in response.

“Looked a lot like falling to me, kid.”

“It’s your fault anyway, Jack.”

“Hey, now. Why’s this my fault? The house belongs to _your_ old MIT buddy, doesn’t it?” Jack says and, hey he actually remembered something.

That’s when he notices something rather important.

Whatever he was wearing before he went after Mac is now floating around the water. All Jack can make out is that it’s slinky and sinking down quickly. Also, the adrenaline from the improvised rescue has definitely worn off because he’s _cold_.

“Think I’m gonna go inside, take a hot shower because I’m just about freezing my _bits_ off here.”

“Bits, really? What are you – five?” Mac mumbles into the arm over his face.

Jack figures Mac is still embarrassed by his impromptu dip in the water because after eight years they’ve seen each other in every conceivable state of undress and Mac is very decidedly _not_ looking at him.

Jack gets up and shivers. “Come on, partner. Let’s get inside before one of us freezes to death. You’re not wearing that much either.”

Actually, Jack’s pretty sure that both the boxers and the shirt Mac is wearing belong to Jack. That _is_ unusual because, while they’ve readily shared clothing before and Mac is a bit of a kleptomaniac who doesn’t know which shirts belong to him and which are Jack’s, underwear is a new one, even for them. Well, Jack will adjust. He’ll take as much closeness as the kid will let him have.

Jack looks down at Mac who still has his arm over his face. “I’m gonna get that shower. Don’t stay here for much longer. I didn’t drag your ass out of the water so you could freeze to death after.” Mac groans something unintelligible and Jack figures he’ll be right after Jack, so he turns towards the house and starts walking with as much dignity as a man wearing nothing, outside of a house that’s not his own, and still with a sizeable hangover can possibly manage.

It isn’t much.

…

Mac is dead. It’s over, kaput, esta roto. The past few minutes have broken his brain beyond repair and he’s going to meet his end by the side of a pool in Vegas wearing Jack’s clothes.

Mac also can’t get the image of a naked Jack out of his head, a _wet_ , naked Jack and he’s tried.

Right now, he’s trying to calculate Pi in his head to a number as accurate as he can in his compromised state but it’s not working, the numbers always turn back into the image of Jack sitting next to the pool wearing only that damn robe or Jack lying next to Mac, wearing absolutely _nothing_ , wet and gleaming in the early dawn.

Somehow, Mac manages to banish thoughts of a naked Jack from his head long enough to get himself upright and into the house. It helps that he’s getting chilly. Mac can hear water running when he steps through the door so he figures that Jack found himself a shower. Mac would like a shower, too so he starts hunting for a bedroom. It’s Tony’s house. The bedrooms always come with a shower.

He finds one, pretty close to the living room where he woke up. It’s as minimalistic as the rest of the house with windows big enough to give Mac a headache and Jack a freak out due to the excellent sight lines. That, however, isn’t what stops Mac at the door, blood rushing to his head and ice cold hands gripping his heart.

It’s…the _state_ of the bed.

Someone had a lot of fun here last night and as far as Mac knows, he and Jack are the _only_ people in this house. There’s clothes strewn about. Mac can’t say for sure if they belong to him and Jack because he doesn’t actually remember what he was wearing yesterday, tries and fails not to remember that he’s still wearing Jack’s clothes. The sheets are pretty much gone from the bed, hanging halfway down on the floor and the basket in the corner of the room shows pretty clear evidence what happened last night.

What happened a _lot_ last night. Dear God, Mac wasn’t aware it’s possible for it to happen that often in one night and he’s probably blushing all over right now and very, very happy that Jack is in the shower.

“Hey, what’s up, Mac? You gonna stand there all day?” Jack suddenly appears behind Mac, nearly giving him a heart attack. He pushes past Mac into the room and Mac waits for it…

“Holy shit. Someone had a _lot_ of fun here,” Jack exclaims and Mac closes his eyes.

_Wait for it._

“Whaitaminute. Did we..?”

Mac doesn’t open his eyes because if he can’t see it, it might all go away and he’ll wake up in his house where Bozer will be cooking breakfast and all of this never happened.

“No idea, you tell me,” Mac mutters in response. He opens his eyes and watches as his partner steps over the clothes on the floor and carefully sits down on the edge of the bed as if afraid that something in the room might attack him if he moves too quickly. Mac almost smiles at that.

“Yeah, that isn’t gonna happen, Mac. The last thing I remember is…you know what? I’m drawing a blank here. Can’t remember a thing.” Jack rubs a hand over his face. He’s found a pair of jeans somewhere but no shirt and Mac’s brain can’t deal with this. The button’s still open, too. _Dammit_ , Jack. 

…

Jack just _can’t_.

The kid is still frozen in the doorway and Jack tries not to imagine what they got up to last night. He’s been fighting some very inappropriate feeling for his partner for some time now, his very male and very _straight_ partner and the thought that Jack might have pushed him into something that neither of them could have really consented to in their inebriated states makes him _sick_.

Mac makes his way over to the bed and sits down next to Jack. Jack take a deep breath.

“You know what this reminds me of?” he asks Mac. When all else fails, Jack usually tries to lighten the mood and so far he’s always managed to cheer his partner up, not matter how dire the situation.

Granted…they’ve never had _this_ kind of situation before but Jack can’t think about that right now or he’ll do something he’ll regret.

“What, Jack?”

“That movie. You know? The one with the three dudes who wake up in Vegas?” Jack chances a look at Mac and can see that he’s trying not to smile.

“If there’s a tiger in the bathroom I will kill you,” Mac tells him with all the indignation of the recently hungover and Jack has to think very hard about that because he still can’t remember what they did last night and if there’s one thing they’re good at, it’s exceeding expectations – even in Vegas.

“ _Jack_.” Alright, Mac starts to sound annoyed now and Jack can’t have that. They still have to figure out…everything and they’re going to need every brain cell they’ve got left between them to do that – even if most of them are probably Mac’s.

“Just kiddin’, partner. No tigers, promise.” Mac just glares at him and drops back onto the bed with a groan.

“What the hell _happened_ last night, Jack? What did we do?” 

And yeah, that’s the question, isn’t it?

“You know, I don’t think we did… _that_?” Jack can’t even _say_ it, no matter how much he might want a repeat. “I mean…shouldn’t we still _feel_ that we did it? Like, sore or somethin’.” This might very well be the most awkward conversation Jack has ever had and that includes the time when he’d had to explain to Matty why he’d handed in an expense report for two hundred vibrators and an alpaca and hadn’t that been fun.

“Jack, I’m feeling like I could puke any moment and my head might fall off. I couldn’t feel the aftereffects of sex right now if I had a manual to compare with.” Alright, point to Mac. And besides, that way lies madness anyway.

“How about we get dressed, find us some painkillers, breakfast and then we see ‘bout getting our memories back,” Jack proposes. “Or at least find out what happened last night?”

Mac groans and sits up, looking vaguely ill.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

…

They do that.

The house doesn’t yield anymore immediate hints about the night before or breakfast, so Mac and Jack brave the early morning sun to find themselves a diner and the kind of greasy food that can cure any hangover. They do find their phones and the first thing Mac does is trying to reach Tony but, wherever he is, it’s nowhere Mac can get to him.

It’s awkward. Jack looks like he’s about to drown in his coffee and Mac manages two bites of his breakfast induced heart attack before he realises that ordering that much grease in one sitting probably wasn’t the best idea.

“Alright, partner. One of us should say something or are we gonna spend the rest of the day bein’ silent at each other?” Jack asks with a grin and Mac’s heart skips a beat. He _loves_ that grin.

“Okay. What’s the last thing you remember?” Mac asks in return. “All I know is that I got a phone call from my old mentor who invited me to Vegas for the weekend. Thing is, I’m pretty sure I said thanks, but no thanks.”

“Yeahhh, your old mentor, and don’t think we’re not gonna have words about that, pal. You did say no, but he was already in L.A. and half-kidnapped you to the airport. When you called me, rambling ’bout some dude taking you with him in his car, I used my very secret spy skills to hunt you down and rescue the damsel, only your buddy Tony can be very persuasive, so he sorta kidnapped me right along with you. And that’s when I’m out. I kind of remember a very swanky plane but after that…”   

“I remember that. I think you told him we were due for a manniversary. Knowing Tony, he made sure we got a good one. Well, what he _thinks_ is a good one.” Mac tries to remember if Tony had said anything else but every time he thinks he’s getting something it just slips right out of his grasp again.  

That’s the moment Mac notices the guy in the back staring at them. When the guy sees Mac is looking at him he nearly jumps out of his seat and all but sprints over to their table, grinning like a maniac the whole way.

“Heyyy, my friends, buddies, compadres. How are you this fine day?” The guy drops into the seat opposite Mac and Jack twitches. Mac knows that twitch – his partner is going for a gun he isn’t carrying right now and Mac needs to do something before Jack stabs their unexpected guest with a fork.

“Sorry, but who are you?” Jack asks before Mac can say anything and he doesn’t roll his eyes. For all that Jack is an amazing operative, he often prefers the blunt approach in his private life.

“What do you mean? Who are you? Come on, Jackie boy, don’t you remember? We had so much fun last night.” The guy steals a fry from Jack’s plate and Mac can see what’s going to happen. Jack, even hungover, still has the speed and stealth of a special forces operative and grabs the guys hand before the fry reaches his mouth.

“I said. Who. Are. You,” Jack grinds out and the guy swallows heavily, fry falling from his suddenly limp fingers.

“It’s Andy? From The Grind? Where we met last night?”

“What’s The Grind?” Mac asks him while glaring at Jack. It’s going to help no one if they scare the guy away before they can find out more. Jack just shrugs, unconcerned and drops the guy’s hand on the table.

“It’s the night club where I work. You guys came in last night with that other guy and man let me tell you – you had fun last night.” Both of them flinch at that and the guy either doesn’t notice or ignores their reaction.

“And where is The Grind?” Mac asks and Andy smiles nervously, reaching into his pocket to withdraw a small card. It’s a business card proclaiming to be from _The Hottest Club In Vegas_ but what’s more important, it’s got an address on the back.

Mac and Jack look at each other while Andy very carefully withdraws his hand from the table and gets up. “Well, it’s been nice to see you guys. Please don’t contact me if you’re ever in the city again. I don’t think my heart could take the excitement, you know?” And then he’s gone as quickly as he came, muttering about homicidal tourists while all but running away from their table.

Jack does know how to leave an impression.

…

“The Grind” is the kind of upscale club that Jack normally takes a lot of pains to avoid because he either feels out of place or is too tempted to punch the first rich bastard who offers him a drink and a blowjob. He knows it’s not Mac’s kind of place either because his partner doesn’t really like bars or clubs, too loud and crowded, and prefers to party in a more familiar location like his house in L.A.

The club is still closed but the door is unlocked so he and Mac just stride in like it’s exactly the place they’re supposed to be in. Confidence works nine times out of ten when they’re on a mission and it works here, too. Nobody bothers them. Only a few people are inside the club, cleaning up the place and the two of them, able to work out a plan of attack without words after all these years as partners, make their way over to the door marked “Personnel only”. Behind the door they find a veritable treasure trove, a row of cameras and a very sophisticated surveillance system.

“Think we find anything on here, Mac?” Jack asks Mac and automatically takes a sentry position by the door. If anyone wants to get in, they’ll have to get past Jack first. Mac starts working on the cameras.

“I think I’ve got something Jack.” An image appears on one of the screens. It’s him and Mac – fully clothed – along with Mac’s buddy Tony. They’re obviously having fun but all Jack can see is how close Mac is sitting next to him in the video, almost in Jack’s lap and so very comfortable with that, Jack knows Mac _had_ to be drunk by that point. There’s no way that would have happened if either of them had been sober.

“Well, seems your buddy Andy was right, we did have fun last night,” Mac remarks absently and fast forwards through the footage. There isn’t much that can help them piece together what happened the night before. Mac and Jack apparently left the club around three am without Tony and that’s it. Nothing more to see.

“Well, that was a waste of time,” Jack grumbles while Mac puts everything in the room back where it belongs. They leave the room and make their way to the exit, still being ignored by the few people in the club when they’re stopped by a voice.

“Angus! What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would have invited you for breakfast if I’d known you were still in Vegas.” Jack’s hand inches towards the knife he _borrowed_ from the diner and Mac gets that twitch around the eyes he always gets when someone calls him Angus who isn’t Jack or Mrs. Bozer.

The guy, who apparently knows them but neither Jack nor Mac can remember ever meeting before, is around Jack’s age, wearing a suit that costs more than what Jack makes in a year, striding towards them with a blinding grin on his face. He grabs Mac’s hand and shakes it and only the fact that he lets it happen without much protest keeps Jack from punching the guy.

“After what you did for my baby, I owe you a lot more than breakfast but I have to start somewhere,” The guy ads and lets go of Mac’s hand. “Tony told me you were good, but my baby’s purring like she’s brand new again.”

Jack and Mac look at each other and come to a silent agreement. At this point it’s probably not going to hurt to tell at least part of the truth and see what happens.

“Sorry, do I know you?” Mac asks and the guy’s eyes widen with astonishment. “It’s just…we’re not exactly clear what happened last night because, well…”

“Say no more my friend, first time in Vegas, eh?” The guy grins again, mischievous twinkle in his eyes (it’s not their first time; he doesn’t need to know that). “Tony introduced us. You took a look at my baby, did something magical and now she’s as good as new.”

“Your…baby?” Mac asks warily and Jack can only agree. That does sound somewhat ominous.

He takes out a wallet and shows them a picture. It’s a classic Aston Martin, James Bond style, because of course it is.

“Got her at an auction last year. Gorgeous thing, isn’t she?” The guy tells them, eyes suspiciously wet.

“That taking a look, was that before or after the club?” Jack asks, hoping it was after because that would give them a clearer idea of their timeline.

“Oh, after of course. I normally stay until we close up, it is my club after all but I called it an early night and we left around…three I think?” At least that fits into what they know so far.

Mac narrows his eyes and Jack recognizes that look. His partner remembers something.

“Wasn’t there someone else with us?” he asks and the guys eyes light up.

“Of course, Trisha! She’s one of our best servers. College student. Does something terribly technical that I don’t understand at all. But you two couldn’t stop talking to each other on the way to the garage,” The guy exclaims and Jack’s heart freezes. The scenario that he and Mac slept together in the biblical sense last night sounds less and less likely and while part of Jack is relieved, it seems that Mac might have danced the horizontal tango with someone else instead. This Trisha girl sounds just like his type, smart and probably gorgeous, too.

Mac looks at Jack, something undecipherable in his eyes. “Do you know how we can reach…Trisha was it? Maybe she can help us piece together the rest of the night.”

“I give her a call. Tell her to meet you somewhere. You two look hungry and there’s a very good diner close to the club. Would that be a good meeting place?” The guy asks and it seems they’re going to get their answers after all.

“Yeah, that’d be great, thanks,” Mac answers and they leave the club with the promise of meeting the mysterious Trisha and possibly a halfway decent lunch option.

Jack can’t wait.

…

     

They’re back in a diner.

It’s still awkward but they’re hungry enough to actually eat something this time. Mac doesn’t really know what to say or what’s going on inside Jack’s head because his partner has been oddly silent ever since they left the club. They’re in that weird in between place where neither of them wants to start talking even though they probably really should.

“You know…,” Jack begins carefully, “I don’t think that we did last night what we thought we did.” Mac swallows the last bite of his cheeseburger and desperately tries to think of a response that doesn’t sound like he really wanted the answer to be different.

He knows what Jack is thinking. Jack thinks Mac slept with the mysterious Trisha and while Mac sees where his partner is coming from Mac doesn’t think so. He doubts that even drunk he would have abandoned his partner for someone else, not matter how smart they were.

Jack looks up and that’s probably Trisha then, Mac thinks. He’s sitting with his back to the door, something he only does when he’s with Jack, but his partner got that look in his eyes that means he’s steeling himself for something.

“Mac?” Trisha, Mac assumes, is exactly as beautiful as he would have expected a server in a high end club like The Grind to be. Mac stands up and she hugs him before he can shake her hand. It’s surprisingly comfortable but there’s not one shred of attraction between them, giving Mac another clue that he probably didn’t sleep with her.

She draws back and smiles a gentle smile at him. Then, to his surprise because people seem to be determined today to treat his partner as an extension of Mac without acknowledging that Jack is an actual human being, she hugs Jack, too. It’s a bit awkward because Jack is still sitting down and looks at Mac over Trisha’s shoulder with a vaguely panicked look in his eyes.

“Hey, Jack. It’s good to see you both upright again.” She smiles and sits down beside Jack.

“Jimmy told me you don’t remember much about last night. Oh, before I forget.” Trisha holds up a bag Mac hadn’t noticed her carrying. “I brought your clothes with me. I think you forgot them when Jimmy’s driver brought you home.”

She lets out a giggle that turns into a snort. It’s kind of adorable, in a weird sisterly way. “Man, you two really forgot one hell of a night.”

Mac clears his throat. “Can you tell us what happened after we left the club? Jimmy said you came with us?”

“Sure. We talked all the way to Jimmy’s garage, Mac. Let me tell you, if I wasn’t completely gone for my girlfriend I would want to marry your brain, seriously. You’re better than every teacher I’ve ever had. Anyway, you fixed his Aston, pride of his collection or so I’ve been told and then we had an impromptu movie night upstairs in his house.”

Okay…that is _not_ what they expected to hear.

“Movie night?” Jack asks, voice higher than usual and he looks at Mac like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. To be fain, neither can Mac.

“Yeah, your idea actually. You told Jimmy you were a Bruce Willis fan and he has an _insane_ movie collection. I can’t actually remember what we watched but I do remember there were a lot of explosions.” She’s still smiling and that smile reminds Mac of Penny Parker for some reason.

“And our clothes?” Mac asks, because that’s pretty much the only question left to ask. That and the bedroom. They definitely still have to figure out what to do about the bedroom.

“Your clothes got pretty messed up when you worked on the car, so Jack here insisted you wear his shirt. Only then I ended up spilling my red wine over Jack and messed up his clothes, too. To be honest guys, I think we were all just way too drunk to make any sensible decisions by then, ‘cause I’m pretty sure I gave Jack the robe I’d been wearing over my club outfit to wear on the way home.” She shrugs carelessly as if a night like that isn’t unusual for her.

She’s a twenty-something living and working in a Las Vegas nightclub, so it’s probably business as usual.

And her story makes sense. Neither Mac nor Jack are known to make good decisions when they’re that drunk which is why they’re not allowed to have more than one weekend like this per year or Matty threatened them with permanent relocation to Alaska. When they got back to the house last night, Mac could have mixed up their bags and taken Jack’s boxers instead of his own. Jack might not have been awake long enough to change into actual clothes.

But there’s still the damned _bedroom_ …

“After we finished the movie, Jimmy had his driver bring us home. Dropped you off first and me after.” Trisha grins. “When we got to that fancy house where you’re staying there were all these people coming out and, let me tell you guys, they weren’t playing Parcheesi, if you know what I mean.”

Jack interrupts her. “You mean like…an orgy?”

“Yeah, exactly. You two didn’t want to chance the bedrooms so we dropped you off in the living room and left. Jack, your snoring is _adorable_ by the way.”

It’s…well, a lot less dramatic than either of them expected but everything she just told them makes a lot of sense. The story is just so…them that it’s likely exactly what happened and Mac isn’t sure if that’s a good thing because he’s feeling strangely disappointed.

They finish their meals and Trisha leaves with Mac’s number and the promise of regular contact because Mac’s brain is apparently just that awesome. Jack organises them an Uber and they spend the ride back in contemplative silence.

…

They’re back at the house and Mac is outside, trying to reach his buddy again. The house is suspiciously clean, every bedroom as pristine as if there had never been anything resembling an orgy to begin with.

Jack feels strangely…disconnected.

He should probably start packing his things because he’s pretty sure they have to be back in L.A. by Monday or risk Matty’s wrath but he’s in that strange mood where he doesn’t really want to do anything except sit on a couch an stare at a wall.

Well, there’s something he’d like to be doing, or more accurately _someone_ but Jack’s been successfully supressing that urge for years so he lets the thought go and concentrates on the immediate future.

Mac comes back inside and Jack tries to find the energy to do anything but sit on the couch and fails.

“I spoke to Tony. He says sorry that he wasn’t at the house this morning but it seems that the people who were at the house last night weren’t actually supposed to be at the house, so he had to release his army of lawyers, his words not mine, and deal with the fallout. He said we can use the house for as long as we want.” Mac drops down next to him. “I’m thinking of taking him up on it.”

“You sure, partner? I think Matty’s gonna be pissed if we’re not at work on time come Monday.”

“Naw, I dropped her a message. We can take a few days, seems the psych department’s been hounding her about us taking time off. Apparently, being kidnapped and shot at on vacation twice in one year doesn’t go over well with Human Resources.” Mac smiles at him.

“We got a Human Resources Department?” Jack asks, knowing full well that they do, but it makes Mac smile and that’s all that counts.

“Yeah, we do. Besides, there’s a pool outside and the fridge’s been restocked. We don’t even have to leave the _house_ , Jack.” Mac’s smile turns lazy and Jack gets the urge to kiss that beautiful mouth and catch the smile to keep with his memories of all of Mac’s other expressions.

“Jack? You alright buddy?” Mac asks, sounding vaguely concerned and Jack realises that he’s probably staring. He clears his throat to mask the fact that he’s been gazing at his partner like a lovesick teenager.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t you worry about lil’ old me. I’m just gonna lie here and do nothing, ‘cause, let me tell you, spending a few days at this house sounds like heaven after the night we had.” Mac frowns at that and sits up, wringing his hands. Jack doesn’t know what he said to pull his partner from his lazy stupor but he immediately wishes he could take it back because that’s not an expression he likes to see on Mac’s face.

“You know, Jack…about last night.” Oh God, they’re actually going to talk about this, aren’t they? Suddenly staying alone with Mac doesn’t sound so nice anymore.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Jack blurts out at the same time as Mac says, “I owe you an apology.” And they both stop, looking at each other as if they can’t quite believe what they just heard.

“You first,” Mac tells him, wide-eyed and yeah, Jack can do that.

“Look, Mac. You might have noticed that I’m not always good at hidin’ how I feel about you.” That’s an understatement, Jack was downright mulish when he’d thought that Mac had slept with Trisha. “But I promise you, I’ll work on that, ‘cause I don’t wanna lose my partner. Please just…give me a chance doing that? I promise you won’t ever notice again.” Because Mac _had_ to have noticed, Jack really hadn’t been subtle today.

“How…you feel about _me_? Jack what are you even talking about?” Mac asks bewildered and then gets that calculating look in his eyes that he always gets when he’s figuring something out. Jack can see the exact moment when he _understands_.

_Here goes nothing._

“Oh…” Mac is silent and there’s a look in his eyes that Jack isn’t sure how to read.

“Oh, I’m an _idiot_.” Mac states emphatically and there’s a smile creeping onto his face that’s brighter than any smile of his that Jack’s ever seen before. In fact, Mac looks almost _giddy_ and Jack tries very hard not to hope, blood pounding in his ears, and fails entirely.

“Jack?”

“Yeah, Mac?”

“I really want you to kiss me now.”

Jack does.

…

Their first kiss is incredibly…gentle. Whenever Mac imagined kissing Jack before this moment it was always passion and fire and a roughness that rivalled their first encounter only with more tongue involved. Instead Jack raises a hand and gently cups Mac’s cheek, a look of wonder in his eyes. Jack pulls Mac forward and he goes with it, almost falling into his partner’s lap, Jack’s other hand coming to rest at his back to keep Mac steady.

Jack presses his lips to Mac’s, carefully as if he can’t quite believe that he’s allowed to do this. Mac steadies himself with his hands on the couch and dives into the kiss with the abandon he reserves for all things worth it. Jack groans and the kiss changes. His hand wanders from Mac’s face into Mac’s hair and Jack’s tongue seeks permission at his lips which Mac grants immediately.

Jack’s hand tightens in his hair and Mac feels like his last two brain cells have abandoned him. A few seconds in and his partner has already discovered one of Mac’s kinks. His hands find their way to the place where Jack’s shirt meets his belt and he does his best to work his fingers underneath the fabric. Jack helps him, temporarily abandoning his exploration of Mac’s skin and raises his arms to let Mac divest him of his shirt.

The result is glorious. Inches of naked, well-muscled chest that Mac had admired before falling into the pool the previous night, dusted with just the right amount of hair, and Mac thinks that Jack should really go shirtless more often.  

While Mac is contemplating a semi-naked Jack, his partner takes the opportunity to pop open the buttons on Mac’s shirt and push it down his shoulders, tangling Mac’s hands in the shirt for a moment and the sharp pang of _want_ that goes through Mac, sitting in Jack’s lap, hands behind his back is definitely something they should talk about later because that is a kink even _Mac_ didn’t know he had.

For now, Mac contents himself with going back to kissing Jack and pressing himself as closely to the body beneath him as he can, grinding against the hard outline of Jack’s cock that he can feel through the thick fabric of his pants.

“Hey, hey…slow down a moment, will ya?” His partner tightens his grip on Mac’s hips and leans back, the warm brown gaze even darker than usual with arousal, something else that makes Mac’s heart flutter pleasantly.

“I don’t want to complain, or anythin’ but if this is going where I’m hoping it’s going…wait, is this going where I think it is?” Jack’s hand comes up and he pushes it back into Mac’s hair, idly playing with the strands.

“’Cause I’d like to maybe take this upstairs to a bedroom. This couch is pretty enough but it’s not the most comfortable thing. But if you don’t want that, if this is as far as this goes, I’m gonna be happy with that too, Mac. Though I should probably tell you that I’m in love with you. I’m in so deep I don’t think I could find my way out with a map and a compass.”

And that is…possibly the most beautiful thing Mac has ever heard and definitely everything he’s wanted to hear.

“I love you, too and a bedroom sounds like the best idea you’ve had today.” Mac says and watches a slow, languid smile spread across his partner’s face. He draws on every bit of self-control he has left and gets up, Jack right behind him. Before they even reach the stairs, Jack has him pressed up against the wall and is busy exploring Mac’s skin with his tongue, paying an a lot of attention to the birthmark on his throat. Mac tries to get his fingers under the waistband of his partner’s jeans but his knees nearly buckle when Jack pops open the button on Mac’s pants and just goes for it, rough and calloused hand drawing Mac’s leaking cock out of his pants.

“Fuck, Jack… _please_.” Mac doesn’t really know what he’s asking for while Jack tries to drive him insane with slow, languid strokes, adding a little twist at the end that possibly shuts down Mac’s brain for good.

“What’d you want, darlin’?” Jack murmurs into his skin, voice dark with want and Mac almost comes at that but Jack’s hand tightens around the root of Mac’s cock, just enough to stop him.

“I want…you to fuck me.” Mac responds and finally manages to get a hand between them, palm closing around the obvious bulge in his partner’s pants. Jack buries his head in Mac’s neck and breathes heavily, breath moist on Mac’s skin.

“Fuck, yeah…we can do that.” Jack draws back and takes a reluctant step back. “Much as I want to, I ain’t carrying you up the stairs, ‘cause that would end this pretty quickly.”

Somehow, they manage to stumble up the stairs and into the first available bedroom without too many interruptions. Mac falls backwards onto the sinfully soft bedding and watches with greedy anticipation as Jack removes his belt and steps out of his jeans. The view is as glorious as Mac remembers from the night before, inches of naked skin stretched taut over well-defined muscles, cock standing proudly at attention. Jack is as unselfconscious in this as he is in almost every other aspect of his life, grinning a dirty grin as he joins Mac on the bed, crawling over to Mac almost predatorily until he can press his body against his partner’s, naked skin against naked skin.

“We’re gonna need some supplies, Mac. Think your buddy got some here?” Jack asks while his hands deftly divest Mac of the rest of his clothes. Mac’s pretty sure there are supplies in the bedside table and he’s right. Jack takes what looks like a bottle of lube and a foil wrapper and puts them on the bed next to their heads. Then he take a moment to look at Mac with that intense stare that almost feels like a caress on his skin and Mac shivers with need.

“Turn around for me, darlin’ Jack whispers and Mac does. Jack pulls the supplies closer in Mac’s peripheral vision and takes the bottle of lube. Mac can only wait for the next part but he hears Jack opening and closing the bottle and then there are fingers parting his cheeks and lightly tracing the entrance to his body. He almost tenses when a finger gently pushes inside, just sitting there. Jack lowers his body and puts his mouth to Mac’s ear.

“Breathe, sweetheart.” He whispers and Mac does, relaxing into the sensation. It’s not the first time he’s done this but it’s been a while. And besides, this is _Jack_ and none of the other times had been as important as this.

Jack’s finger starts moving, pushing and pulling until Mac is pliant and utterly relaxed and doesn’t even really notice when one finger becomes two, then three, preparing him for Jack’s cock to take their place. Mac’s hands are fisted in the sheets and soon enough he’s meeting every thrust of Jack’s fingers with his hips, desperate for more of the sensation. Jack removes his fingers and Mac grumbles at him. His partner chuckles.

“Don’t worry. I’m not stopping, baby.” And if Mac didn’t have a thing for pet names before he definitely does now, at least when it’s Jack using them.

“You better not be,” Mac mumbles into the sheets and then Jack lowers himself back down and Mac feels something much thicker and harder than Jack’s fingers slowly pushing inside his body. He barely notices an empty condom wrapper falling over the edge of the bed and wonders absently that Jack is definitely more coherent in bed than Mac is if he managed to put that on while Mac can barely remember his name, and then his thought processes come to a stuttering halt. All Mac can still process is Jack over him, around him, cock bottoming out with one final push. Jack is breathing heavily with the strain of letting Mac get used to the feeling, of not moving. Then, as gently as he started, Jack pulls out a little before pushing back in, starting a rhythm of slow thrusts that leave Mac breathless with each push and pull.

Just as Mac has gotten used to the feeling, Jack stops and draws himself up, nudging Mac’s legs apart with his knees in the process. Mac is confused at first but realises what his partner intends when Jack urges him to kneel, too. Mac does and Jack pulls him back into his lap and… _fuck_. The angle is different and Jack’s cock is even deeper inside if that’s possible. Jack raises a hand and gently places it on Mac’s throat, caressing the skin, the other hand gripping his hip.

“Look up, darlin’.” Mac does and… _how_ did he miss the mirror over the bed?

The picture they make is _obscene_. Mac is sitting in Jack’s lap, cock hard and leaking and Jack’s hands are gripping him tightly, possessively as if afraid that Mac might vanish if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.

Jack starts moving again while holding Mac’s gaze in the mirror and Mac can’t possibly look away, the dark promise in Jack’s eyes far too captivating. It doesn’t take long. The hand around Mac’s throat tightens once and then Jack lets go and grips Mac’s cock again. This time he doesn’t bother with the slow, gentle movements from earlier. Each thrust of Jack’s hips is followed by a stroke from his hands and Mac comes with a shout, spilling himself over the sheets and Jack’s hand. Jack isn’t far behind Mac. A few more thrusts and then both of his hands grip Mac and hold him tight and Jack comes with a groan.

Jack lets himself fall sideways and takes Mac with him. They come to a rest sweaty and dirty and grinning like the utter loons they are. Mac turns around so he can look at his partner. Jack’s hand comes up, fingers idly tracing the freckles on Mac’s skin and he chuckles.

“What?” Mac asks him, and Jack’ grin only gets wider.

“I was just thinking, we probably owe that buddy of yours one hell of a thanks.”

Mac buries his head in Jack’s chest and starts laughing, too. They’re filthy and naked and there’s come drying on their skin and he’s pretty sure Jack hasn’t gotten rid of the condom yet but, somehow, Mac can’t remember ever feeling this happy before.

“Yeah…we really, really do.”  

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos for the idea that Mac and Jack think they slept together go to [Nevcolleil.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevcolleil/pseuds/Nevcolleil) who is awesome and responsible for way too many of my plotbunnies. Also, somehow Tony Stark managed to make his way into the story. Mostly because I needed a reason for Mac and Jack to wake up in an expensive house in Las Vegas.


End file.
